Solitude
by spopococ
Summary: Drabble - He had loved and he had lost in ways that he would never be able to find full solace from. Sometimes, when the nights grew long, stretching on forever ahead of him, he could seldom close his eyes without her face before him. (Also posted on tumblr under butteredtopcorn. No pairing. T just to be super safe cause I'm rusty.)


The city of the Ancients was where solitude and sanctity were found hand in hand.

Each month, at least once, he'd spend an entire day within the city's walls, or in the comfort of the surrounding forest. At times, he'd sit beside the endless depths of the lake, where he knew she'd been laid to rest, and his mind would reflect on the sacrifices made to get them where they were today.

Sins were something Vincent had spent more time attempting to atone for than trying to forget.

His... friends... had told him that he sought forgiveness for acts that he had already more than made up for, but in his heart, the words would not sit true.

He had loved and he had lost in ways that he would never be able to find full solace from.

Sometimes, when the nights grew long, stretching on forever ahead of him, he could seldom close his eyes without her face before him.

These were the nights he sought the forest the most. Where he would seek wisdom from beyond the Lifestream and ache for words he would likely never hear, but longed for just the same.

A wind stirred through the leaves, his collar blocking his face from the most of it, but his bangs stirred against pale cheeks, and a wavering breath escaped his lips.

He sometimes wondered if the Cetrans themselves heard his inner turmoil and sought to reassure him in their subtle methods. He wondered if the flower girl from the slums watched over him here, as he never came across wildlife or beasts from the night, and somehow, comfort was always a silent presence that curled around his very soul.

His lips curled at that.

His _soul_.

What soul did he have left to be comforted? What part of him had not been claimed by the beasts so very long ago? A familiar ache, taut and welcomed in its reminder that he had lost everything, tugged at his core.

Then, another feeling. Of being watched. Of being approached through the shadows. But his silent company made no effort to hide their presence, and so, he remained at ease. After all, his company had further right than any of them to seek his repentance here.

"It's late," Vincent remarked quietly, and a soft huff of amusement was his only response, as his brother in arms took up a seat at the tree beside him, the ghostly glow of the surrounding trees illuminating already pale skin and near platinum hair.

"It's hard to tell in here," Cloud offered in response as he adjusted his weight, raising a leg to bend at the knee, his hand casually dangling over his pants leg.

"You've been in here since daylight?" Vincent queried, and the blonde turned to offer the barest glimpse of a smile.

"No."

The silence was companionable, comfortable, and as Vincent stared into the depths of water before him, he found a certain sense of ease settle across him. He did not seek company, and yet, when his own company was sought, he met the needs of others with easier grace than he himself would have expected.

He and Cloud fed off each other this way, and many a night had been spent in silence, both seated beside the crystalline depths where a fallen maiden of war had found her resting grounds, before one or the other would leave soundlessly.

The ex-TURK had always assumed that he would find no comfort in the shared space of another ever again, and yet here Cloud was, a _friend_ (yet another thing he found himself unworthy of) and it was enough of an experience that a small smile licked at the corner of his lips.

As if telepathy was another skill added to the mound of skills that the lone wolf possessed, Cloud offered a small sigh and turned his head in the ex-TURK's direction.

"You don't have to spend all this time alone," Cloud offered quietly, cautiously, "If you didn't want to. You have all of us there if you need us."

"I know," Vincent replied just as quietly, crimson eyes closing for the barest of moments, "Thank you."

Silence resumed once again, but words of acceptance and understanding hung heavy in the air, a blanket of comfort, of some unspoken reassurance that sometimes, it was okay to seek penance with others.


End file.
